


Making Time

by maudlintrash



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Canon Queer Character, Canon Trans Character, Christmas Fluff, Comedy, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Tumblr: wyesecretsanta, shameless flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 06:58:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5575721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maudlintrash/pseuds/maudlintrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jacob needs Ned's help, and it's very, very important.</p><p>AKA two fools who are bad at flirting go shopping together, and it goes about as well as you'd expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RebornFromSeas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebornFromSeas/gifts).



> My Great Wye Gift Exchange 2015 submission for RebornFromSeas!!!
> 
> I hope you like this, and Merry Christmas! Your prompt was full of cute things, so I write the cutest thing I could stomach. :D

If there was one thing Ned Wynert didn't need during the busiest time of the year for diamond sales, it was Jacob Frye tapping pathetically at his office window.

"What in the world are you doing out there?"

"I’m freezing!" Jacob swung in and Ned shut the window behind him, then retreated away from the draught and back to the warmth of the fire. Jacob trailed after him like a spaniel, holding his gloved hands out to the heat. He looked deplorably handsome, a quality Ned didn't find endearing in someone who technically worked for him. "I can't believe you locked me out."

"Most people use the door."

"And I use the window. You locked me out!"

"What are you doing?"

"I need your help." Jacob turned to him, straight-faced. "I'm buying Evie a Christmas present."

"Oh my God." Ned sank back into his desk chair and dragged his hands through his hair. Jacob was always like this—his energy was as exhausting as it was compelling. "Alright, what is it you need? Money?"

"Company."

"What?"

Jacob followed him and leaned heavily on the desk, bulky and overwhelming and obnoxious. "I'd like your company. And your advice. You see, I thought I'd get her a nice, new knife—"

"I appreciate the thought, but no."

“Come with me, Wynert. I need your help. You know knives.”

“Not half as well as you do,” Ned replied, grimacing at his desk piled high with papers. “Anyway, I'm busy.”

“You do so. I want you to come. You have an aura of respectability.” 

Ned snorted at that.

“You look good in a suit,” Jacob added, and Ned flushed instead.

“I'd like to see you in a suit,” he shot back, matching Jacob’s flirtatious tone.

“I'll let you buy me one when we go shopping this afternoon.”

Ned started to laugh, and then caught himself. “That's—no. No. That was an invitation to dress yourself, Frye, and I'm not going on any disastrous shopping trip—Hang on, you are planning on buying Miss Evie’s gift yourself, aren't you?”

“Of course! With the money you gave me. Well, the money you gave us—”

Ned groaned. “Fair compensation for a job done.”

“Anyway, I'm sure I'm not skimming Evie's share. But if I were, it would be for a good cause. Come with me. I know you like her better than you like me, and this will make her happy. Please,” Jacob wheedled, leaning further into Ned's desk. His gloved hand slid close to an ink pot, and the balance sheets that Ned had spent all morning filling out rustled and wrinkled.

He knew he could flip his tone and stamp his foot and Jacob would slip back out the window with a hangdog expression. He would disappear into the depths of Whitechapel with his hurt feelings and Ned wouldn't see him for weeks.

Damn him. He couldn't bring himself to do it.

“Fine. One afternoon, and if we don't find anything that's it. You're on your own.”

Jacob bounced to his full, looming height, looking like nothing less than a happy dog about to be taken for a stroll.

“Wynert, you lovely man, let’s go.”

***

“You're a liar,” Ned told him as they entered what was no doubt a disreputable establishment. “You didn't need someone respectable at all.”

“Whyever would you say that?”

Paint on the sign above the shop door was flaking off, and all the windows were papered over like it was meant to be closed. Still, Jacob pushed open the door without hesitation and a bell dinged. Inside, the dusty shop was was a maze of old furniture and household goods. Some racks on the far wall held faded clothes that were so out of fashion Ned doubted they were wearable.

A heavyset bald man behind the counter grunted at them.

“Clarence!” Jacob raised his voice in greeting. “We’re here to look at your sharper wares.”

“Knives is it, Mr. Frye?”

“Yes. Got anything new?”

Clarence came out from behind the counter and seized Jacob’s hand in what was probably a painfully tight handshake—Ned knew because he got the same treatment a moment later. Then he led them behind a curtain to a back room, chatting all the way about neighborhood goings-on while Jacob laughed and patted him on the shoulder. 

It occurred to him that Jacob obviously knew this place well and didn't really need his help at all. He bit back his irritation. If Frye was going to drag him out of the office on some ridiculous Christmas errands, Ned felt he could at least not make it a complete waste of his time.

In the back room, Clarence pulled a drawer of knives open and left them to it. Their handles were dull with use, and the knives were sharp, without a bit of flash to them.

“Well?” Jacob asked, spreading his arms.

“They're...functional.”

“Of course they are. Evie isn't interested in toys.”

“That one still has blood on it.”

Jacob looked down at the knives, frowning. “She's used to blood.”

“I'm just saying, if you're looking for a nice gift for your sister, emphasis on nice, you might want to consider a different shop. In a different neighborhood.”

Jacob had the gall to look offended. “What would you suggest, then, Wynert? I'm not interested in anything ornamental—”

“Why'd you ask me to come at all if you don't want to hear what I have to say?”

Jacob pondered that for a moment and then shrugged. “Fair enough. Where did you have in mind?”

They relayed their apologies to Clarence and Ned hailed a carriage for the Strand. Jacob stretched his long legs out across the carriage until Ned gave him a pointed look. Grinning at him, Jacob sat up and indicated Ned’s massive overcoat.

“You look like you're ready for an Antarctic expedition.”

Ned raised his shoulders, pushing the coat up around his face. His neck and jaw were entirely wrapped in a large woolen scarf, and the damp London chill was still getting to his bones.

“I'm freezing my ass off for you. I hope Miss Frye likes her gift. Doesn't she have enough knives, anyway?”

“Evie? Never.” Jacob's legs were creeping into Ned's space again, and this time he gave up and let them stay.

They resumed the search at a rather nicer shop with big glass windows and a tidy, green-painted facade. It was Ned’s turn to greet the clerks and lead Jacob to a wall in the back. He tried not to look too smug when Jacob’s face lit up at the display. 

This store had imports from all over the world, and it specialized in the “sharper wares,” as Jacob had so neatly put it. There weren’t just knives, but swords and staffs and even a few pistols. For people with taste and money, it was a necessary stop. Ned had picked up pieces for his collection here, and Adam Worth himself swore by it. 

Jacob was still staring, his hands open like he wasn’t sure what to grab first.

“Wynert, have I died and gone to Assassin heaven?”

“Is there such a place?”

“Yes, right here.” Jacob turned a blinding smile on him and Ned had to look away, letting his fingers dance over the jeweled hilt of one of the knives. This was why going anywhere with Jacob Frye was a bad idea. Speaking to him was terrible, looking at him was worse, and spending an afternoon with him was just an exercise in self-punishment.

“You like this one, Wynert?” Jacob's fingers brushed Ned’s as he took the knife from the wall. “Tell me about it.”

“Ah, sure.” Ned cleared his throat and unwound his scarf to give himself time to collect his thoughts.

“Hot in here, isn't it?” Jacob's smile was remarkably wolfish. He turned the knife over and around in his fingers, and Ned couldn't help but watch.

“Yeah, it is.”

“You're overdressed now.”

Ned fixed him with a glare. “Focus, Frye. That’s a Hirschfänger—a German hunting knife, and a pretty fancy one at that. This was definitely used by nobility. It's a little flashy for Miss Frye, if you want my opinion.”

“I love your opinion.” Jacob tossed the knife in the air and caught it by the hilt, laughing when Ned flinched. “Relax, Wynert.”

“If you're gonna throw all the merchandise around I'm leaving right now.”

Jacob practically whined. “Oh, don't be like that.” Still, he hung the knife back on the wall. “Something not so shiny, then. What about something from India?”

“Do you know anything about India?”

“No.” Jacob's face fell. “Alright, but I don't know anything about anywhere else either.”

“Yeah, but maybe you can both broaden your horizons.”

They settled on a silvery koummya blade from Morocco. The knife was slightly curved, with a smooth wooden handle and a silver scabbard with complex geometric flowers embossed on it. It was restrained and elegant, just like Evie herself.

And Jacob was waving it around making stabbing motions at the air. 

"It's well-balanced. She'll love it." He tossed it up and caught it, while Ned backed away several feet. The shop clerk was watching them with open dismay.

"Frye!"

"I know what I'm doing!"

“It’s not exactly meant to be thrown. You’re just supposed to wear it.”

“Well, Evie might very well be throwing it. We should be prepared.”

Ned sighed and dropped his hunched shoulders. "Are we done here?"

"I suppose. Do you want something? The shiny one?"

"You're not buying me anything." 

"I could," Jacob muttered as he went to pay for the knife. The clerk kept his head down, and Ned tried to telegraph the man a heartfelt mental apology. "If you weren't so stuck up about getting gifts."

"I'm not stuck up. Also that German knife costs five-hundred pounds, there's no way you can afford it."

"Ah. There you have a point."

Jacob tucked Evie's gift into some miraculous pocket in his coat, and they started the trek back to Ned's office.

"See, Wynert? That didn't take long at all."

"It didn't.” Ned waited for Jacob to follow it up with an invitation to drinks or some other distraction, but there was nothing. 

With disappointment, he realized how much he had actually been anticipating a follow-up. Usually when Jacob came to him with some fanciful idea it genuinely did eat up Ned’s day, and the idea of going back to work was dull in comparison to Jacob’s frenetic energy. “You could’ve even done it yourself,” he said, in an attempt to save face.

“Yes, but I would've been lonely.” Jacob looked at him with remarkably naked honesty and shrugged. Ned swallowed a sarcastic response and found that without it he was speechless. Then Jacob laughed. “I didn't mean to ruin the mood.”

“What mood?” Ned managed, sounding far less sour than he had meant to. Jacob made him feel just slightly off-kilter, like a child with a sweetheart, and it bled into his tone.

He never got his answer. The street they were walking along opened up into a courtyard where an ice rink had been set up. Lanterns were strung around the edges and a man with a cart and a fire was selling hot chestnuts and renting ice skates at the same time. 

Jacob immediately perked up and Ned didn't have time to formulate a no way before Jacob grabbed his arm.

“Wynert, have you ever been skating?”

“Sure, when I was a kid. And by the way, that was a long time ago.” The last time he had skated he had been fourteen years old in New York City, and he spent every second of it fantasizing about skating straight across the Atlantic Ocean and away from his family. 

Since then, he had never had much time for winter sports. But Jacob looked like he was gearing up to plead now, and Ned didn’t think he could stomach this ridiculous lump of a man trying so hard to look adorable one more time in an afternoon. “But we can try,” he added, and Jacob smiled like sunshine.

"I bet you’ve still got it.”

They got fitted for skating shoes, and then Jacob tried to lead him by the hand onto the ice.

"I don't need your help!" Ned barked, extricating his hand. "I can skate just fine."

"After you, then." Jacob affected a posh accent, swept the hat off his head, and bowed low. Stiffly, Ned shuffled across the ice, well-aware that Jacob was now using his hat to cover his face while he laughed. 

"Hey, I never said I was a figure skating champion." 

"Of course not." Jacob fell in next to him, hands clasped behind his back. “Back in Crawley, the pond used to ice over every winter. Evie and I would skate together for hours when we were children. She's better at it, of course.”

“She's better at lots of things,” Ned agreed.

"She can skate backwards, and do jumps. So could I, actually. Should I try it now?"

"I'm not going to let you decapitate someone with your feet."

"I would never!"

"A bloody end to a long waste of an afternoon."

When Jacob spoke again his voice was quiet and thin. “Would you still rather have stayed in and done your paperwork, then?”

Yes, Ned almost said, because Jacob was young and obnoxious, and no one should be allowed to be that handsome and irritating simultaneously. He didn’t need to encourage Jacob to keep knocking on his window at all hours.

He had hoped that Jacob would keep doing it anyway. But at that moment Jacob looked past the point of teasing and Ned couldn't—didn't want to.

“No. I wouldn't have.”

Jacob let out a breath and his gloved hand slid down Ned's wrist to fumble and clasp Ned's own hand. “Dammit, Frye, I told you I don't need you to hold my hand.”

“What if I want to hold your hand?” Jacob skated out backwards ahead of him and grabbed Ned’s other hand. Ned could feel his face turning very, very red but he didn't pull away. “I like you, Wynert. I like you quite a lot.”

“You can skate backwards, you bastard.”

“Of course I can. I've been skating since my feet were big enough for the shoes. Don't avoid the question.”

“What question?”

“I guess I didn't ask yet. Can I kiss you?”

“You realize we’re in public.”

“Consider it a theoretical question, then. Imagine me knocking on your window in the middle of a cold night—”

“Doesn’t take much imagination—”

“And all I asked was a kiss.”

“I’d give it to you.”

“Would you?” Jacob's face lit up with a warm smile, and Ned found himself smiling back. His mouth seemed beyond his control. 

“I suppose,” Ned drawled. “But I bet your asking wouldn’t stop there.”

“Of course not. If I were out in the cold, I’d need a place to stay the night.”

“Figures. You give a guy one favor, he asks for the shirt off your back.”

“Wynert! I’m a gentleman.”

Ned laughed as Jacob drew him closer, the ice making resistance impossible. “Whatever you say.”

“Alright, I’m no gentleman. Let's go home." Jacob turned as Ned was about to collide with his chest and fairly dragged him off the ice.

"What happened to wanting to skate?"

"Well, there's lots of things I want to do. And I think the skating has accomplished its goal, don't you?"

"What's that?"

Jacob winked at him. "It's pretty romantic."

Ned wondering if kissing him would stop Jacob’s attempts at flirting. "No, it's not."

"Yes, it is!"

"No, it's not!"

Back at Ned's office they bustled in through the door this time, and Jacob cupped Ned's jaw in his chilly gloved hands and kissed him. Ned kicked the door shut and leaned into Jacob's body, letting his hands drag up Jacobs lapels and rest on his broad chest.

“You know,” Ned said when they broke apart. “I probably don’t say this enough, but you’re alright.”

“Am I?”

“I mean—dammit. I like you. I can be an asshole. And I actually do have work to finish. But I do like you.”

“That’s all I need to know,” Jacob said, before kissing him again.

***

On Christmas Day, Ned heard a tap on his window. Jacob crouched outside waving, nose red with cold. With a sigh, Ned cranked the window open.

"Frye... Jacob, what the hell, just use the door next time."

Jacob jumped in with a thud. There was a long wrapped box under his arm.

"Special delivery. I can't use the door."

"You can, you're just a damn show off."

"It's faster too." He leaned in for a kiss, cold stubble scratching Ned's face. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too. I'm putting on some tea." Ned eyed the present with trepidation as he heated up the kettle over the fireplace and prepared their cups. "What's that, then?"

"Nothing much." Jacob grinned and tossed the package over in his hands. "Just something that reminded me of you."

"Stop throwing it around, then."

Jacob obligingly set the present down and wrapped himself around Ned. He was warm and heavy, and Ned let himself lean against him until the water boiled. Jacob pulled himself away to sit on the settee, leaving Ned with a kiss on the side of his neck.

He accepted his tea with a smile and Ned leaned over to pull another wrapped box from under the table.

"This one's for you."

"For me?" Jacob's smile was massive. "Ned..."

"Go on, open it."

"If you insist." Jacob set his cup down and ripped the paper off the box. Inside was a smaller box, which Jacob popped open to reveal a pair of gold cufflinks with pearl inlay. The Assassin symbol was pressed into the face of each. Jacob whistled.

"Ned, these are custom..."

"For the suit you're gonna wear someday."

"Over my dead body." Jacob held one of the links up to his wrist, admiring it. "It sparkles."

"You know, getting that symbol on anything is pretty hard to explain. My jeweler thinks I'm joining a cult."

"What did you tell him?"

"That it's an old family crest. You know, an American one. He wouldn't recognize it."

"Oh, you didn't! American?" Jacob put a hand to his chest, playfully scandalized.

"Sorry to say."

"I love them anyway." Jacob clapped the box shut and kissed Ned on the cheek. Then he lunged for his box and dropped it in Ned's lap with a thunk. It rattled a bit. "Your turn."

Ned gave him a dubious look as he lifted the heavy box. "Am I going to like this?"

"I should hope so." Jacob leaned on the back of the settee, watching him and nibbling his lower lip.

Ned tore into the brown wrapping paper, and opened the plain box inside. Finally there it was—a wooden train with a glossy black paint job and bright red wheels. He lifted it carefully and flicked one of the wheels, watching it spin. Jacob was watching him expectantly. 

"I realize it's a toy, but—I don't know, I thought you could decorate the room. It would fit on the mantle."

"Jacob. You sentimental idiot." Ned put the train on the table and threw his arms around Jacob's neck. "It's wonderful."

Jacob laughed, his warm breath gusting against Ned's neck. "Glad you like it. Does that mean I get to stay?"

"Stay. Keep me warm."

"If I must..." Jacob bundled Ned into his arms and somehow managed to find Ned's lips with his own.

Ned sank into the kiss and relaxed. This time he had set aside the entire day, just for them.

 

THE END


End file.
